


Mizpah

by bokuwakero



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Despaircest, F/F, Incest, Necrophilia, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokuwakero/pseuds/bokuwakero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Hebrew, Mizpah: (n.) the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mizpah

**Author's Note:**

> Let's say that I have this feeling that Junko regrets what she did to Mukuro.  
> Also, the necrophilia warning is no big deal, I promise. It's just not to say that I didn't warn you.

She had to make them see that hope was not an available path – that was the only way to make them commit a murder in that situation, otherwise, filthy human beings like them would keep relying on each other to find comfort from the beloved despair Enoshima Junko was so determined to make them achieve. The absence of hope was essential for her plan to work, and _sacrifices demanded to be made_. She needed to give them a demonstration of what she could do to them.

That’s how she justified the killing of her sister.

Mukuro wouldn’t mind, and Junko was convinced of it from the start. The soldier herself told her countless times during midnight love confessions about how she’d give her own life for Junko: how her body, her heart and her soul were hers to keep, and how everything she did was for the sake of her younger twin.

_Pathetic_.

Devoting yourself to somebody like that could only lead to death, it was obvious – clear like water. Ikusaba Mukuro didn’t mind being used and thrown aside, she was a mere puppet of Enoshima’s wishes, and yet… Junko did love her. The sick kind of love, demonstrated by violence and abuse, which could mean deeper scars than the skin can show – but you couldn’t expect much more from growing with a sociopathic, homicidal and sadistic twin sister.

Or could you?

A grin covered Junko’s perfect face and her blue eyes were carved on the screens that monitored Hope’s Peak Academy. She had headphones on and listened to the conversation going on between Sakura Oogami and Aoi Asahina.

‘’I can’t take this anymore, Sakura-chan!’’ Aoi cried – the mastermind could see behind the screen tears streaming down her cheeks as her knees failed her and she fell on the floor of the corridor in front of her own room. ‘’I’m so tired of this place. I don’t want anyone to die anymore.’’

Sakura kneed in front of the girl and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘’Be strong, Asahina, my girl. We’re going to find a way out… it’s a matter of time.’’

‘’No, it’s not! Nobody is coming rescue us, right?! I miss my life, I miss swimming, I miss things how they are supposed to be! I’m sick of this endless nightmare!’’

‘’I know.’’ The fighter sighed. ‘’But we have no choice now. We have to be strong and patient. And as long we are together, I’m sure we can beat whoever is doing this.’’

‘’I’m in so much pain right now!’’ Aoi hugged Sakura. ‘’Whoever they are, they’re getting what they want!’’

‘’We can’t let them win…’’ murmured the other girl.

As she watched the scene, Junko’s grin became wider and wider and turned into a giggle that developed into a maniac laughter, which filled the whole room in high tone.

‘’Do you see that?! Isn’t that beautiful? She’s succumbing to my Despair!’’ She turned her head to look back, way too quickly. ‘’Hey, Muku, did you see that? Our plan is workin-‘’

Junko stopped. The smile disappeared from her face and she stared into nothing for what seemed to be ages, wondering why she did that. Why did she call Mukuro when she was dead? Enoshima herself killed her. The model narrowed her eyes, feeling a bitter taste on her tongue and a scratch of angst in her heart with the realization.

_No, Mukuro didn’t see that, because you killed her._

Getting up from her chair, she left the room like a rocket in lightspeed, walking quickly up to the morgue. Her noisy high heels knocked the floor rhythmically, ticking into her head like a clock and making her running thoughts faster with the seconds. She pushed the door, struggling, and shivered with the cold of the room. She knew what compartment to open – she’d been the one to put her there in the first place.

The sound of the tracks echoed in the room as the metal drawer revealed a white body sack. She unzipped it and stared at her mirroring face.

_You killed Mukuro. You killed your own sister._

Carefully, she removed the wig from her sister’s head and threw it aside – now it looked like Ikusaba Mukuro, except for the clothes.  Closed eyes, peaceful expression --Junko had seen her like that many times that she could simply be sleeping. But the thing is, this time she wasn’t going to wake up – her eyes would never open again. She would never tell Junko how much she blindly loved her anymore.

_Never_.

‘’Oi, come back.’’ Junko murmured into the cold air, and a white cloud of breath left her mouth with the words. Nothing, however, happened, so she continued. ‘’Oi, Mukuro. I’m telling you to come back. Now.’’

That face. Those disgustingly ugly freckles. That carelessly dry dark hair. And her skin was even paler than usual. Junko grifted her teeth with anger. So annoying – Mukuro was so annoying – and all the little things about her that were _so annoying_ began to show for a second. She was so useless, pathetic, desperate, attention seeking, stupid… The rage made the model dig her long nails into the palm of her hands so deep that blood drops started falling on the floor beside her.

‘’I just told you to come back!’’ she yelled at the top of her lungs. ‘’Come back now, Mukuro! Didn’t you say you’d do _anything_ I told you to?! _Then come the fuck back here_!’’

Falling on her knees on the floor, the younger twin finally did what she had never done since the other girl’s death: genuine grief tears burned from her eyes across her face and down her neck as she sobbed Mukuro’s name. The older sister would usually hold her as she cried when she had sudden breakdowns, but now she was alone and it was her own fault. The only thing she managed to get from killing Mukuro in the end, was…

…Despair.

Gradually, Enoshima’s sobs evolved into a disdain laughter – so deeply sarcastic you couldn’t tell what that was a reaction of. She threw her head back, holding her stomach to contain her enthusiasm. Tears still rolled down her face, a warm contrast against the coldness of the morgue atmosphere.

She struggled to get on her feet again, still giggling, and leaned over to Mukuro’s face. ‘’You see, Muku? I’m in so much despair right now, isn’t it beautiful? I’m so happy for this!’’ Junko cupped her sister’s cheek, and kissed her lips softly. ‘’I’m going to make them all feel this beautiful despair as well, I promise, my soldier.’’

After leaving the body as she first found it, the model left the morgue, wiping the tears from her face.

Maybe it’s a sick kind of love, if you even can call it like this, but there are things beyond human understanding. Love, adoration, lust, passion – maybe these are just different ways of naming the same thing? That all really just depends on how you see it. And through two certain pairs of blue eyes, that was what it was.


End file.
